


Wings of Fate

by BrightEyed_Bleary



Category: Fate/Zero, Original Work
Genre: AU - Summonings, Angst, Based Loosely of anime, Bickering, Excalibur, F/M, Fate Zero - Freeform, Fighting for power, Should I quit while I'm ahead?, What am I doing?, duels, is this even good?, summonings, ultimate power
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-04 16:19:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10994517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrightEyed_Bleary/pseuds/BrightEyed_Bleary
Summary: In our world we are there are those who are normal and those who are not. Those who are live their lives comfortably with no idea of the things that go on around them. Those who are not, understand the beauty and danger of spirits. They can grant you your wildest dreams, or make you darkest nightmares a reality. However, even within that unique caste there are those who are still special. There are seven every 100 years who prove themselves to be above the rest. They are given the chance to summon one of seven overly powerful spirits who help them to fight their way past the other six and claim the greatest prize of this known universe: the legendary sword Excalibur. Known to be wielded only by the greatest warriors of their times, it can grant the wielder, and their family, the greatest power or conquering. Thus, the one who claims the sword at the end of battle will come to rule the world for the next hundred years. This is the story of one battle, the one that changed everything.





	1. The Beginning of time

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go! I have been starting sooo many stories right now it's crazy. I can't help it! I just love writing. Anyways, this is a fully new and original story, so hopefully it will be less awkward than my other fictions. This story will be based loosely off of the anime Fate Zero (which is amazing and everyone should watch it), so all ideas go to them. I just really liked the idea, that's one of the reasons that I also added that tag in the fandom section. Don't know if that's where it should go, but I feel like it needed some credit for stemming this fan fic. I will take it down if this is violating some kind of copyright issue, so let me know!!

Over 10,000 years ago there was peace. Everyone got what they needed, nothing more and nothing less. However, it was boring. there was no excitement in the world, nothing to fight for. The Normals were happy and content, but the Chosen lived to search for something to fight for, or at least something to fight. As if hearing their calls, the gods gave to them Excalibur and seven seals. The seals were given to those who were above the rest. Those who showed a certain desire to have power. Those who were strong enough hold the power of their seven most powerful class servants. 

1\. Knights: known for their impenetrable armor and unbreakable swords. They fight with and for honor, holding it above all other values. They serve their masters well and follow their directions with authority and power. They know no bounds in effort nor when it is time to give up. You cannot break their souls with anything and they will fight until the death.   
2\. Assassins: heart and soul do not exist within this one. They hold only their personal gain at the highest regard and have no fear to take the dirty way in or out. They serve their masters recklessly and although they have personal gain in highest, their second is compliance with those who lead them as they fear the consequences that lie after disobedience.   
3\. Mage: the only class that does not use weapons, these servants wield their magic as something more dangerous than any weapon on the earth. They have a balance of regards but are always underestimated. Their masters give them orders and while they are carried out, often they are to a much higher account than every anticipated by any who witness it.   
4\. Elemental: these servants are those who can control the earth, seas, skies, and flames. Though they have the widest reaches of power, their limit lies within themselves. They doubt themselves and their powers and thus the carry out their masters orders to a tee. This is useful if the master of the elemental knows what to order and just how to do it right.  
5\. Vigilante: hidden from all, no one has ever seen the face of a these servants and live to tell the tale. They are known to be highly skilled in long distance combat, and while it is their worst form of battle, they excel at close range combat as well. Their orders are taken and executed only is they full fill their own agenda which often aligns with their masters.   
6\. Phaser: the most mysterious of all the servants, their powers range from shape shifting, to moving at unbelievable rates. They work by manipulating the particles around them and moving them. Orders are carried out with their own flairs and they refuse to take specific orders from their masters. They are extravagant and are always willing to give an extra flair.  
7\. Exemptors: the servants with this class are improvisers. They are on the spot thinkers who prefer not to have a strategy and just wing their way through the entire experience. They are known for their unique work with weapons and the fusion of them with their bodies. They prefer vague and light orders in order to allow them more freedom and creativity. 

Those gifted with a servant then spent time battling each other until one servant-master team prevailed and took the sword. The first battle lasted months as they attempted to learn and control their servants. The battle waged on and when a victor was declared (the first victor as Phaser and the legendary Pendragon) the world held its breath. Pendragon was rational, but he demanded power of the world. Few attempted to fight him, but he quickly dispatched them with the power of Excalibur. The originally presiding council drafted a new law that gave precedent to the winner of the battle and their family. They had no idea how long their reign would be, but what choice did they have either than to submit to the power of the great Pendragon and the Excalibur. 

A hundred years passed under the reign of the Pendragons before the seals began to appear again. A battle raged once more before the Elemental and the Silvius claimed the crown. Another hundred years passed under their reign and again the seals appeared. The battles continued for ten thousand years. Each generation grew faster, stronger, and more informed as the studied and learned more about spirits and unique classes of the sword. The people quickly became used to changes and the battles that could erupt at any moment. 

The people began to learn more things about the process as well. The sword assigned the servants at seemingly random, and the only pattern to be found was within who was chosen as a warrior, and even that was alight on specifics. The sword had no preference of male or female, but it often chose those who were least expected. They were often those who were younger as if the sword demanded it be a test of pure soul and will, not artificially made talent or study of strategy. Yet, it did not chose those who give up and do not desire anything in the world. Those chosen often have a clouded and unexpected desires of vast and violent diversity. 

Now, in present day, it time for the seals to return and the world holds it's breath as it's next warriors are chosen.


	2. First Seal - Shattered Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the first seven chapters will be introductions for all the characters. You will discover who gets what spirit as the chapters are posted. I am still trying to figure how to sort the POVs for the chapters. The first seven will focus exclusively on one of the seven main characters, then the rest might switch back and forth between characters so that you don’t have to wait forever to find out what happened to that one character while you read about the other six characters. I don’t know how often I will be able to post here because this is not my main fan fiction, but I really like this one! So hopefully I can keep up with it pretty well! I hope you guys enjoy!!

Just one girl sat at the table today. She was alone. There was no one beside her, and yet memories flashed through her brain so perfectly that she could hear her little sister laughing beside her, she could smell the fresh scent of the newspaper her father had brought home, and feel the hearty smoke from her mother’s cooking dance across her skin. It was normal, but then another memory crossed her mind.

Her family walking home from the show. It was her seventh birthday and they had gone to see her favorite performance live at their neighborhood theatre. She and her sister jumping through the large puddles that littered the streets with their parents huddled under an umbrella smiling. The moon was bright as they passed an alley. 

Suddenly, a shadowed figure raced past them. The girl jumped back and gasped. Upon this the figure stopped and turned back towards the family. His head turned slightly to the side and as the girl stared wide eyed at the figure she noticed he had no legs. His coat fell to his knees, but beyond that it faded away into smoke and then nothing. She could not move. But he could. 

In a flash, he was behind her father and there was a blade protruding from his chest. Her mother screamed while all she could do was stare. Her mother befell the same fate the next instant, and still the girl continued to stare. Finally, her eyes swung to her sister. The figure flashed to her next, but instead of killing her, the figure took swept the girl into his vast coat. She was gone. 

Then, the hooded figure turned to her. Her heart stopped once again. His hands stretched out towards her. She screamed. 

“Stop!” a voice commanded. His hands froze a hairsbreadth away from her and he looked to the side. Her head whipped to the side as well. There stood that valiant man who had rescued her. A light shone from behind him and gave shape to his tall, lean frame. His arm outstretched towards her like a beacon of hope. 

She sprinted for him and grasped his hand. The figure, though had to move. His eyes followed her path and remained upon her as she swung herself around the man, her fingers still entangled in his and peeked from around him. 

“You dare to interfere human?” the figure hissed, his voice reaching here like the wind on a freezing day. She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched the man’s fingers. 

“You have no right to steal and kill as you please,” he shouted, his voice commanding and strong, “release what you have taken and be gone.”

The figure only raised his head, “Who are you to command and accuse me of the things that I cannot control?” The girl gasped and the man tensed. For a moment, it seemed like the figure was upset that he had done what he had. As if it was not something he had chosen to do.

“Summoned from the beyond against your will,” the man shouted, “be at peace as I release you from the contract that you did not sign, and return to the grave from whence you came!” In a cloud of smoke the figure disappeared, fading away. The next instant there was nothing in the alley but the girl, the man, and the two bodies of her parents, their heat slowly fading as it began to rain. 

***

“Leo?” a voice said, shattering the memory that would forever haunt the girl. She raised her eyes from where they had been fixed at the counter to meet the soft, concerned eyes of her savior. It had been three weeks since the attack. Since her parents had been killed. Since her sister had been stolen. Since her world had ended. 

“Yes?” she asked quietly. The man’s eyes crumbled.

“Have you finished packing?” his voice was soft as he questioned her gently. She nodded slowly and looked to where the boxes of all her things were stacked against the wall.

“Yes,” she repeated. 

“Good,” he replied, “then let us go. The new people will be here soon.” She nodded and rose from the chair. Running her hand across the top she felt the gentle niches that she and her sister had made as they ran around the house banging pots and pans on surfaces to see what sound they would make. The man held out his hand and she took it. Ever since that night, his large hand enveloping hers, had been the one thing that had grounded her. She relaxed into the familiarity of it and smiled. 

The man that rescued her was named Henry Johnson. He had a son that was her age and was more than willing to take her into his family. His wife and son were just as kind and loving as he was. He had no idea what or who had attacked her family that night, but he had promised her that she would never befall the same fate as the rest of her family. She trusted him beyond words, and placed her faith within his skills and will. 

***

Years passed as the girl grew out of her shell, and out of her dark memories. She never asked what happened to her sister, and she never asked if she was still alive. Honestly, she was afraid of what the answer would be, and she did not want to dig up that memory anymore.

Instead, she became beautiful and brilliant. Her brother, her eternal best friend and the one she told everything. She faded in and out of relationships and exceled in every aspect of life. She fell in love with the Sword Wars and learned all there was to learn. It was never her desire to become part of a war, but as the time arrived for the Sword to choose its next masters, she couldn’t help but check the back of her hand for the dark black mark that would signify that Excalibur had chosen her. 

Yet, another morning another bare hand as she rose one Saturday. Another disappointment, she thought to herself. She lifted her head and rose from her bed. Her day went normally for a Saturday. Here brother, Mac, and she went shopping and ate frozen yogurt at the mall. It was nice. 

By the time that evening arrived, Leo had decided to do some more reading on the wars. She pulled her favorite book from the shelf and placed the large book upon the table. Prying the book open, she turned to the page about the Knight. Her favorite Sword class spirit by far, and skimmed her hand over the well-worn page and traced the familiar words.

She stayed up late that night and fell asleep her hand resting upon the seal of the Knight. Her hopes high and heart light. As the night wore on she slept peacefully. Then, just at the stroke of midnight, her hand flared. For a moment, it lit up the room, then it disappeared, but the job was done. Upon Leo’s hand was a black Celtic symbol. 

The symbol resembled a dragon for the ferocity and deadliness of the dragon at close and far range. The dragon was shrouded in darkness and little was known about them. All of these qualities were found in the Vigilante. 

When Leo awoke the next morning, she stretched and rubbed her eyes like she did every morning. Then she looked to her hand, sure of what she would see. She gasped as she looked upon the symbol that marked her hand. She was blind sighted by her mark as she leapt to her feet and ran around her room. As any thought of sleep left her mind, she stopped to study her symbol.

“Wait,” she whispered, examining the mark, “no.” Now she was excited. The symbol. She rushed to her book and flipped through the pictures to find the page she was looking for: The Vigilante. She placed her shaking hand upon the page and her heart soared. It was a dead match for what was printed on the page. The Vigilante spirit was hers. 

The Vigilante was extremely dangerous and deadly, but they often were very loyal even though they convinced themselves it was to fulfill their own agendas. A stroke of luck. Although the Knight spirit was her favorite, she had a leg up with the Vigilante. She quickly told her family and they were ecstatic. To be chosen by the sword was a great honor and gave your family the opportunity to become the next ruler and craft the world in your image. 

The rest of the day was spent preparing. It was not uncommon that the spirits would summoned the moment that a symbol appeared. Her brother carefully crafted the magic circle in white chalk while her father and she practiced the summoning phrase that would call her spirit to her. She became nervous as her brother added the final strokes. Within a certain Sword Class there were multiple spirits. They each had different skills and there was no telling who would appear. There were many who appeared multiple times and many who had only been seen once or twice. Leo was sure that there were also many who had never been seen. No one knew how the spirits were selected, so all she could do was summon her spirit and hope for the best. 

“I’m done,” Mac declared, as he rose. His hands and knees were covered in white chalk and Leo laughed as she brushed it off his shoulders. He grinned at her and gestured towards the circle, “It’s all you now Leo.”

“Okay,” she said, stepping up to the circle, “here goes.”

“You can do it,” her father urged. She nodded. Leo raised her marked hand above the circle, almost to the center, and spoke the summoning phrase forcefully, her voice unwavering. 

“Sharp as an arrow and shadowed from the light, pass through the barrier and align your goals with mine towards victory!” She shouted, her heart thrumming in her chest. As the last word was spoken, the circle began to shine dark green. Smoke began to arise from the center of the circle. Leo pulled her hand back as her spirit swirled to life. It began with the feet. 

Dark boots appeared wrapped in silver buckles, black pants that hugged muscled legs. A dark belt with a large silver buckle in the shape of the Vigilante symbol. A leather vest covered a lean chest that was crossed with leather braces across his chest. Tanned hands formed beside his waist. His fists were clenched and heavily tattooed above black cuffs that rested above his palms. His shoulders were broad and heavy set, and his neck wide and tense. When the smoke went to form his face, all that appeared was a shaded shape covered with a deep green hood. The smoke then continued the cloak over his shoulders and down his back until is fell along the ground. Finally, his weapons faded into being. Knives in his braces, hunting dagger hilts appeared above the rim of his boots, swords at his hips, and a quiver on his back. His right hand flexed as a bow appeared in his hand, long, dark and elegant. He was magnificent. 

When he finally spoke, his voice was deep, dark, and cold, “What makes you think that you deserve to have my goals align with yours? What makes you think that you are so worthy to have the power of the Sword that I should help you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes that ending was awful. I just want to make the end of the chapters something that the spirits say so that it’s like that are challenging their masters. So, Leo is the main character of this fic, but the next six are super important too. I am going to post the next chapter soon because I want to set the stage as soon as possible for the story.  
> Also, I really wanted to give you guys a visual of what the symbols looked like, but I could not figure out how to put photos in the chapter. Oh well, you will just have to use your imagination!! Sorry. :(  
> Comments and kudos always appreciated! :p


	3. Second Seal - Don't Hurt Me With Your Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter!! This one is pretty cool, and I think that he will be a more closed off cool kind of person, but I am trying to avoid the cliched: the boy that is quiet and everyone thinks he is just rude but in reality he just has things going on in his life the he can't control or take care of in his own and as the other characters get to know him and find the small acts of kindness that he does they befriend him and he turns out to be a really great friend and blah, blah, blah. I hope I avoided that, let me know what you think!!

Amidst the pounding feet and the shouts, the whistling wind, and the loud music, Philip Boyce heard nothing but silence. He was somewhere else. He was in his place. All he saw was the field. All he cared about was the ball. All he knew was where to run. Silence pounded through him as the pitcher raised his hand. The ball glowed neon purple in his hand, and suddenly it was hurdling towards him. It took less than half a second for Philip to react. He raised his hand and hit the ball with the neon blue stick in his hand. The ball and the stick collided and the purple sphere hurled off into the sky. The crowd fell silent as it soared. The ball flew past the field and deep into the crowd. Cheers erupted as the score changed and the game ended. Without a second to waste, the players began to disappear. They faded away into pixels and color. The field next as the game deteriorated and finally, Philip. 

He tugged the helmet off, and his room reappeared before his eyes. He sighed in the darkness and set his VR helmet down on its charging pad. It beeped quietly as it began charging, then went quiet. Philip glanced around the room. The posters hanging from his walls were of people that no one had heard of. They were not even real people, well, they were played but real people, but it was more like an alter ego or something. He had painstakingly crafted each on through hours of time so that he could immortalize his favorite characters. The rest of his room was mostly bare, just plain. His covers were a dull grey, and his bedside table empty save for his phone’s charging pad and one photo of him, his mom, and his dad. For the second time that day, Philip grimaced at how dull and profoundly boring his life was. 

“Philip!” a voice shouted up the stairs startling Philip from his identity crisis, “breakfast is ready! Hurry up, or you’ll be late for school!” 

“Coming!” Philip shouted back, rising from the floor. He tugged on his familiar hoodie and jeans. Shoved his feet into his worn sneakers, and swiped his headphones of the bed.   
He gently set them around his neck before snagging his backpack and running down the stairs. 

He jumped down the last few stairs and landed hard falling into a jog into the kitchen. He slid quickly into his seat and smiled across the table to his sister. She grinned back, and Philip noticed that the tooth that she had been working on all week that finally fallen out. He smiled wider and pointed at his mouth. She nodded and pointed to her missing tooth. 

“Here you are love,” his mom said setting a bowl of porridge before him.

“Thanks mom,” he replied as he started eating. He ate quickly so he wouldn’t be late. He finished quickly and set his dish in the washer. 

“I’m ready,” his sister, Angie, said as she stood at the door.

“Coming,” Philip said, as he quickly kissed his mom goodbye and waved to his dad who was reading the paper. His father waved back with a smile, and Philip grabbed Angie’s hand and they were out the door. The pair strolled down the street and towards a small group of younger kids. When they arrived, the pair stopped. Philip squatted down to Angie’s height, and patted her on the head. 

“Bye Philip,” Angie said, smiling at her big brother.

“Bye Ange,” Philip said smiling back, “have fun at school today.”

“I will,” she replied, as a yellow bus appeared around the corner of the block, “you too; and if those guys pick on you again, let me know and I’ll beat them up.” Philip laughed. 

“I’ll be sure to tell them,” he said as he rose to his feet. Philip walked away from his little sister and headed towards his school with a wave. 

School went on normally for Philip. He did his work well and listened to his teacher’s lectures. He took good notes, and didn’t bother anyone. He ate his lunch quietly at a table of others and listened to the latest VR stats. He smiled as he heard his name come up as second on the light ball tournament. He would have to wrap that up tonight against the best player. He finished his day, and he was almost home when it happened. How could he think that he would make it a whole day without this?

“Hey ugly,” a voice called out as he passed the figure that leaned against a pole, “where’d you get those shoes? In a dumpster behind the ghetto mall your family shops at?” Malikai and his gang laughed loudly. Philip just hunched his shoulders and kept walking. 

“Oh look,” one of the others said, “he’s not paying attention to us, maybe we should get his attention.” At that point Philip started to sprint. Footsteps pounded after him, but he was close enough. He leapt up the stair in front of this house and ran around the side. Their footsteps persisted. When he reached the high wall that his father had insisted on creating, he took a high leap. It was a bit of a struggle, but Philip managed to grab the edge of the fence and scramble over it. He dumped himself over the edge and fell to the ground. He heard the bodies of the gang slam into the wall with a variety of grunts. Philip let out a sigh of relief. 

“You win this round Philly,” Malikai growled, “you won’t be so lucky tomorrow, and now we know where you live.” Their footsteps left. Philip smiled.

“Jokes on you,” he whispered, “my dad’s the chief of police.” He stood and dusted off his pants. He entered through the back door and stomped through the house. His mom was in the kitchen and she raised her eyebrow at him.

“Why are you coming in through the back door?” she asked. 

“I left something in the backyard so I went to grab it,” Philip said, smoothly lying. 

“What was it?” she asked, thinking she had caught him. 

“Turns out it wasn’t there,” he said, he was always prepared for his mom’s questions. 

“Mmhmm,” she said skeptically. Most of the time, Philip figured his mom knew what was happening to him, but he wasn’t about to admit to it any time soon. 

“What’s for dinner?” Philip asked, desperate to change the topic despite his careful evasion. 

“Rice and chicken pilaf,” his mom replied, “so don’t eat too much for snack.”

“You got it,” Philip said snagging an apple from the dish on the table, “I’m going upstairs.”

“Okay,” his mom called, as Philip left the kitchen, “dinner is at five and we will not come get you and will start without you.”

“Okay,” Philip echoed, heading up the stairs. He headed right for his console, and grabbed his VR helmet off its pad. He set it on his desk and powered on his computer. The light ball game immediately came up and Philip went to click the start game. But suddenly, a bright light filled the room and his hand burned. Gasping, Philip reached up to shield his eyes which he decided was a mistake an instant later as the light began to intensify. Philip shrieked at the burn and pushed back and fell out of his chair with a crash. The moment that he hit the ground, the light faded and the room was once again dark. 

“Philip!” his mom exclaimed having come into his room after hearing the crash, “what’s going on?” 

“I don’t know,” Philip groaned sitting up. His mom flicked on the light in his room and Philip lifted his now normal hand to his eyes, and screamed. 

“What!” his mom screamed back, “What’s wrong?!” Hoping Philip had seen wrong he lifted his hand back up to his face, but there it was. A pitch-black symbol marked his hand. It was shaped like two half-finished blades crossing each other which faded away at the tips. This was one of the seven Excalibur marks, the Assassin to be specific, and Philip was terrified. 

***

Although he was terrified, his parents were prepared. When his father returned home, his mom told him about what had happened to Philip and his father had taken him into the basement. Philip had protested and argued as his father pulled out chalk and began to draw the circle that would summon his spirit. 

“But I don’t want to,” Philip begged, as his father finished the circle. 

“Too bad,” his father said, “you don’t have a choice. Excalibur has chosen you and now you will fight with that spirit in the battle for ultimate power.”

“But -” Philip protested again. 

“No,” his father said forcefully, “now take this book, put your hand over the circle, read this passage, and summon your spirit.” Philip saw no point in arguing anymore, so he took the book. It fell against his leg as if his hand had no strength to hold it up. He dragged his feet to the circle and heaved a massive sigh. He looked to his father with pleading eyes, but all he saw was determination. Philip turned back to the circle and raised the hand with mark over the circle and read the passage in a monotone. 

“Your personal gain may guide you, but let your fear lead you to me past the gates that guard you and send us towards victory,” Philip said. Nothing happened. 

“Again,” his father demanded, “like you mean it.”

“Fine,” Philip said. He repeated the phrase with a little more force. Still nothing happened. 

“Again,” his father said, “we are not leaving until you do this.” Philip repeated the phrase again with a healthy amount of force. Still nothing. “Again!” his father shouted. Philip flinched and stared at the circle. 

“Your personal gain may guide you, but let you fear lead you to me past the gates that guard you and send us towards victory!” Philip shouted and this time he demanded that the spirit appeared. Black smoke erupted from the circle and Philip shielded his eyes against the onslaught of smoke. When it cleared, he blinked his eyes and took his first look at his spirit. 

She was crouched at the floor. A deep blue cloak fell over her shoulders and one worn brown boot was visible between her arms. She wore a leather breastplate and arm gauntlets. Her black hair fell around her neck even though it was in a tail and her body was poised like she was ready for any attack. When she raised her eyes to his, Philip was pierced by a bright ice burg blue. Her skin was a pale white and she looked almost like a ghost. Her lips thin and pursed. As she rose to her feet, Philip could see the muscles that were tensed and the pendent that glittered on her chest. Her cape was pinned to her left shoulder with a bronze replica of the Assassin symbol. He recognized her from his history books. 

“Hyla,” he whispered, as he continued to stare in awe at her. Philip thought no one could hear him, but her lips curled into a deadly smile as he spoke.

“So, you have heard of me,” she said, her voice as cold as the ice burg her eyes reflected, “but what makes you worthy of being feared by someone as powerful as me? What makes you so terrifying that I should tremble at the thought disobeying you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay!! I really like this chapter! I think it was pretty well developed, but let me know what you think. I am excited for Hyla because she seems like such a bad ass, and I wanted to include spirits that had been seen constantly, had only been seen a few times, and had never been seen. Hyla is an assassin that is popular. Anyways, sorry this chapter took so long to post, life man. I hope you enjoyed: comment and leave kudos!! See you guys later!!


	4. Third Seal - Heart of a Lion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hell-oh! I just finished this chapter and am so happy that Mac finally has his spirit. Unfortunately, this one is more about Leo's spirit as it picks up right after he chapter ended... so there's that. Nothing else to say, ENJOY!

Mac stared in awe at the tall spirit that stood before him. He was in complete shock at the spirit that Leo now had control of. He was tall man who was covered in black and with an intimidating air that made Mac quake with fear. Leo, however, stood tall and proud before her spirit. She had always been strong. Mac knew that something had traumatized her at a young age, and yet he did not know what it exactly was, or how she could be strong after. Mac did not feel that he was weak in anyway, but he definitely did not have the courage that Leo seemed to possess. 

“What makes you think that you deserve to have my goals align with yours? What makes you think that you are so worthy to have the power of the Sword that I should help you?” the spirit spoke with a heavy and deadly tone. The voice made Mac shudder, but Leo spoke evenly back to him. 

“The question is not whether or not I am worthy, but rather can you provide me with the power that I need to achieve the goals that I have in mind?” Leo voice did not waver, and it was clear that she was serious. 

“I do believe we will get along well,” he said, his smile evident in his voice. Leo nodded, smiling back. 

“As do I,” she said, “I am sure that you are hungry and want to know what this world is like.”

“Indeed,” the spirit said, “it has been many hundred years since I have been here in this world. I am sure that much has changed since then.”

“For sure,” Leo said, “what might I address you as?”

“If you ever need me,” the spirit said, and Mac leaned forward in anticipation, “you can call me Ramnshi or Shi for short.”

“I will do that,” Leo said, “so, Shi, what do you want to do first?”

“I would like to eat,” Shi replied, “I am starving, and would like to first experience the new kinds of food that the world has to offer.”

“Of course,” Leo replied, using her foot to erase the chalk from the circle the width of a path. Shi gently stepped onto the path and crossed out of the circle to the basement. It was an immense show of trust for her to let him out of the circle without any questions, but the way that Leo used it, also a sign on power: I am letting you leave the circle without question, but remember I have the power to put you back.

Mac wondered briefly how she could remain so calm while under the stress of proving herself worthy of that spirit, but that was the point he supposed. 

“Mac,” Leo said, startling him from his thoughts, “would you like to help me make something for Shi?”

“Sure,” Mac choked out, “I would love to.” He headed for the stairs. Leo headed up, but Shi waited at the bottom of the stairs. Dad stared in awe at him as he passed him up the stairs. Mac made to follow and couldn’t help but glance towards the spirit. His hooded head followed Mac as he walked past him, and even though he couldn’t see his face, Mac got the sense that he knew something that he didn’t. As he rose the stairs, he followed Mac. Mac was unable to hear his footsteps, but he could sense his presence behind him as he trailed up the stairs. 

When Mac reached the kitchen, and walked through the door, he stayed at the door leaning against the door frame. Mac wandered around the kitchen finding ingredients, and cooking equipment. His eyes, though hidden, seemed to follow me across the room. It was unnerving. Mac started the pasta and sauce and then just leaned back to wait. That was all we could do. Silence descended upon the room like a blanket. We were all lost in our own thoughts. 

Fifteen minutes later, the pasta and sauce were ready. Mac dished out pasta and we covered them with sauce and parmesan cheese. We sat down around the table, and set our forks out. Mac started eating and everyone followed suit. Shi swirled noodles around his fork, and then lifted it up. Mac watched as he raised to where he thought his mouth would be. It disappeared inside his hood for a moment then reappeared empty. Mac frowned: not as dramatic as he thought.

“How is it?” Leo asked cautiously, “Mac is one of the best cooks in the city. He even has a job doing it in the city.” Shi sat there for a moment in silence. Then, he took his fork and inhaled the rest of his food in an instant. Mac's jaw dropped open at the sight. He didn’t know how he did it and doubted that he wanted it. 

“It was very good,” Shi said, “can I have some more?” He turned his head towards Mac. 

“Help yourself,” Mac squeaked. He rose from the table, and returned a minute later with twice as much food as he had started with, which had been a lot. He ate at a slower pace, but he still finished before any of them had finished our fist helping. 

Afterwards, Leo sent me up to set the spare room up for Shi while she showed him the television. Mac wasn’t sure what he would want to watch, but he seemed eager to learn about this magic light box that made pictures move. 

The spare room was shaded and dark with a small cot and a large closet. It had its own bathroom and enough space for him to do whatever he wanted. I pulled the clean sheets out of the closet and made the bed. There wasn’t much else to do, so I checked all the lights and cleaned the bathroom a little. By the time Mac finished an hour had passed. He went to leave the room, and found his figure casting a silhouette over the door. Mac sucked in a breath. 

“The room is ready,” Mac said, “I hope it is to your liking.”

“I am sure that it is more than accurate,” he said. Mac nodded. Now would be the time for him to leave, but he refused to move from the door. 

“So,” Mac started, as if that would let him know that he wanted him to move. 

“You have no idea what’s coming do you?” he said darkly. 

“What are you talking you about?” Mac asked staring at him, confused. 

He sighed deeply, “I am breaking so many rules doing this, but you need to save her.”

“What are you -?” Mac started to ask, but choked off when he stepped towards him. He squeaked and took a step back. Fast as lightning Shi reached out. His right hand pressed a fist into Mac's sternum, just above his heart, and his left took Mac's right hand, pinching his palm between his fingers. For a moment nothing happened, but then a heat spread through his body, a burning heat. Mac screamed as liquid fire seemed to race across his skin. His hand took on the brightest and sharpest burn. Mac's throat closed up and turned raw from the screaming. He heard muffled voices of Leo and Dad, but the loudest thing that he could hear was the blood rushing through his skull. An eternity later, Shi stepped away from him. Mac immediately collapsed to the ground gasping for air and clutching his chest with his right hand. 

“What did you do to him!?” Leo shrieked falling to her knees beside him. 

“I forced a seal on him,” Shi said calmly, like it was the most normal thing to ever happen in the world. 

“Why?” Dad asked, he was now squeezing his shoulder while Leo ran her hands over Mac's face and arms, searching for wounds that only he could feel. 

“Because,” Shi said, “he needs to be there to protect here when everything goes down. I am a strong spirit, but I cannot defend her in every situation. With him, our chances will be doubled for survival.”

“How?” Mac gasped out. 

“Hmm?” Shi asked squatting down beside me. 

“How did you do that?” Mac wheezed, “I thought that only the sword could choose its masters.”

He chuckled, “It is; and there will surely be hell to pay when I get back to the spirit world, if not before then. Little known fact, the Sword can actually take a physical form.” Leo sucked in breath, but didn’t seem too surprised. 

“Mac,” dad asked, “which spirit did you get?” Of course, he would be level-headed and accept what had happened. All we can now do is move forward, he would say. 

“I don’t know,” Mac said, my vision finally clearing. Mac looked down at his hand and stared at the mark that now graced it. It looked like a black circle with four lines drawn to another small circle in the center. One line was wavy like water, one jagged like fire, another smooth like air and the final a thick swoop for earth. He knew this one, but Leo voiced it first. 

“Elemental,” she breathed, “that’s a strong one Mac.” 

“Yes,” Shi said, “and we should summon him or her quickly. The sword will notice soon, and might be able to block your summoning.”

My dad’s hand clenched on his shoulder, and hauled him up, “Let’s go Mac. There isn’t a second to waste.” He staggered to his feet and stumbled through the house to the basement. 

“We need a second circle,” Shi said. Each circle could summon multiple spirits, but only control one at a time. Some sorcerers only needed one spirit at a time, so they only needed one circle, but we needed two.

Mac's dad nodded and grabbed the chalk, while Leo grabbed the book of spirits. She searched through it until she found the page of the Elemental. She showed it to him, and pointed to the phrase. 

“Here,” she said, “memorize this one.”

“Do I have to memorize it?” Mac asked. 

“Suppose not,” she said, “I just find that I appear more powerful if something is memorized.” Mac shrugged and read the passage over and over until he had it memorized. 

“Done,” Dad said rising to reveal the second circle. Mac stepped towards the circle, but his hand suddenly started to burn. 

“Hurry,” Shi urged, “the Sword has noticed you. You must summon the spirit now!” The pain was blinding, but he made it to the circle and raised his hand above the circle’s center.  
He was breathing heavily, but steadied his voice and spoke the phrase. 

“With the physical world bending to our will,” he commanded “lend me your aid and follow me as we make our way towards victory!” The pain became agonizing as fire erupted from the circle. There was a burst of smoke, and he started coughing and swiping at the air. By the time the air had cleared around him, the burning had stopped. He had summoned the spirit, there was no going back. 

The first time he glanced at my spirit, he thought there had been a mistake. It was just a kid; but when that kid’s eyes met his: Mac saw a lifetime of tragedy and strife. He was young, maybe ten, and had honey blonde hair and tanned skin with a smatter of freckles across his nose. His eyes were wide and appeared innocent, but his pupils and mouth showed a hardness that you only gained through experience. He was dressed in brown breeches and a cream tunic. He was also wearing a leather vest and matching boots. His hands were gloved, and the only appearance of a weapon that he had was a sword hilt that poked out of his back. 

“Hello,” he spoke sounding like the innocent child he appeared to be, “I am Ansel and I am the most powerful spirit that you will ever have the pleasure of meeting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY! I hope you liked it. Mac's spirit is so sweet and someone that no one has seen before. If you are keeping up with descriptions as we go through (intro chapter) you will notice that he is very different from the rest of the spirits. Keep a look out for the sword in physical form, I think that will be the next chapter...  
> Anyways! Comment and leave kudos! See ya guys! <3


	5. Fourth Seal - The Physical Side of Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey-o! What is up!! It has been a week since I updated this fic since this chapter is the longest I have posted and I have had less than 0 time to write anything at all. I hope you ENJOY this chapter oh few who read it! 
> 
> ...at this point I only write this story because I like it. LOL, but thanks anyways for those who do read it!!

Alex was not afraid. He was never afraid. What reasons did he have to be afraid? He was good looking, he was smart, he was athletic, and everyone loved him. Why should he be afraid? 

Alex shook his head to remove those thoughts, and his mirror twin did the same. It was only on summer, he thought. He couldn’t have changed that much… and yet, everyone seemed to think that he was beyond different. 

* * *

Alex had met up with his old friends after he arrived back from his summer long Europe trip. When he had gotten to their dinner and seen them, it had been normal. He had walked over to them and smiled down at them from his standing position. Dean, his best friend, looked up at him through his rounded glasses and stared. Then he blinked. Then he frowned. Then he spoke. 

“Can I help you?” he asked, slightly confused. 

“It’s me,” Alex said, “it’s Alex.” Dean’s jaw had dropped open revealing his perfectly straight teeth, a gift from five years of braces. He blinked his large eyes. 

“Alex?” he said, like he didn’t believe Alex, “Alex Clarke?”

“Yes,” Alex said, “can I sit?” Alex gestured to the seat next to Dean that was unoccupied. 

“Sure,” Dean said, sliding aside. Alex sat down beside him, and beamed at his other two friends: Charlie and Harley, “hey guys.” Their mouths were also agape at Alex, and he couldn’t help but smile, “you’ll catch flies that way, and can I get whatever you’re having?” He gestured vaguely to the brightly colored drinks they each had. 

“Sorry man,” Charlie said breaking out of it, his voice a noticeable octave lower, “just can’t believe it’s really you.”

“Yeah,” Harley piped up, “you’ve changed a lot.” 

“So have you,” Alex frowned looking over them. 

Charlie was no longer wearing the glasses and pinstriped shirts in favor of contacts and a v-neck shirt and a leather jacket. His hair wasn’t as greasy and was now slightly styled back with gel so that it swept over his head and back to his collar. His jawline had sharpened, but he still had that anxious energy. His fingers always tapping on something: the table, his glass, and Alex could feel his knee bouncing, bumping Alex’s every other second or so. 

Harley had drastically changed as well. He had also lost his braces and had tanned significantly. He had lost his chubbiness and his hair had a new sheen as it fell down over his forehead. Harley had always been considered the more stylish out of all them, but his style had still changed. Rather than the hoodies and headphones, Harley now wore a khaki jacket, the sleeves rolled up, and a loose black scarf. His head covered in a beanie. 

However, the biggest change to Alex was in Dean. They had all been kind of social outcasts for the majority of their schooling, but Dean always the most. He suffered braces, glasses, and acne. He was the kind of person that always wore the same hoodie and shoes. He only had two pairs of jeans and didn’t care at all if people thought it was gross. But now, Dean had lost the braces and acne and gotten glasses that made him look more professional rather than nerdy or something. He was wearing dark skinny jeans, a shirt with a depiction of some stickman on a bike and low-rise tennis shoes: all of which looked very clean. What had happened to his friends? Alex wondered. 

All of these observations had taken place in just under ten seconds, and when he was done, the waitress had come. She smiled brightly at them and asked what they wanted. They all took turns like they used to, Alex ordering a drink as well, and Alex found that while they may have changed on the outside, his friends were all the same on the inside.  
They spent the better part of two hours talking and eating, then they went to pier where they used to hang out and spent the better part of the rest of the day before hitting the beach and watching the sun set. Two girls hit on Harley, who flushed and scared them off by contradicting himself. Charlie hooked four, but only took the number of one. Alex made small talk with five, but they all were a bit dense. By the end of the night, Dean took top prize with seven girls, five phone numbers, and weekend plans. They all hooted at him on the walk home. Funny how things changed so fast, and yet they all just accepted it and went on with life. 

Alex waved goodbye to them at his door, and the other three continued down the road to their houses. Dean turned down the next driveway, and Charlie the next. Harley hopped across the road, and entered the door across from Alex. They had grown close by growing up next to each other, and they had been inseparable since grade school. Alex went to bed early preparing for school the next morning, and dreamt of what it would be like when he saw everyone he had known from before. 

* * *

Now, here he was. Staring at himself in the mirror wondering if anyone would recognize him. His closest friends hadn’t, how could he expect anyone that he didn’t know well too? He shook his head once more. You can do this he told himself one more time. Then, he left the room. 

Alex had breakfast and caught up on tv while he waited for his friends. They showed up a few minutes later, and his mother just had to gush about how much she had missed them, and how much they had changed over the summer. Good thing they had shown up early. They finally managed to get out the door and headed towards school. They bickered good naturally and shoved each other around the sidewalk Soon they arrived, and Alex couldn’t help but worry. His footsteps slowed and soon his friends took notice. 

“You okay Alex?” Dean asked slowing to wait for him. 

“Hmmm?” Alex asked, “Oh, yeah, just nervous?”

“Why?” Charlie asked, “You’ll be fine.”

“What if no one recognizes me?” Alex mussed. 

“So what?” Harley said, “You’ve got us, and that’s all you need.” 

“You’re right,” Alex conceded, and followed his friends the rest of the way into school. The day went by surprisingly well, and Alex was pleased by the number of people who  
seemed to recognize him. At first, they didn’t, but when he had told them who he was their eyes had lit up with recognition. There were a few new students who seemed more than eager to meet him and his old friends had a lot of new friends. It seemed like he wasn’t the only on that had changed as he looked out at the sea of faces. Two people sat huddled in a corner of the cafeteria while Alex ate lunch: Leona Porter and Mac Johnson. They were adoptive siblings, but had held onto their separate last names. 

For a moment, Alex wondered why they were sitting alone. It wasn’t for lack of friends because Alex knew they had plenty, but then he saw it. As Leo reached up to push her dark hair off her forehead, a black symbol winked at Alex. His eyes widened. That was an Excalibur mark. As Alex continued to stare he noticed that Mac also had a mark on his hand. How did that happen? 

“Alex,” Dean said, startling him out of his thoughts, “whatcha looking at?” 

“Nothing,” Alex replied quickly. 

“Sure,” Dean said suggestively, “nothing.” He made air quotes, but dropped it. 

By the time Alex got home, he was exhausted. All he wanted to do was collapse in bed and sleep forever. His parents were out for the night, so he heated something up quickly and then ate in front of the tv. When the clock made it to eight, Alex deemed it appropriate to go and get in bed. He climbed the stairs and changed into his sweats quickly. Then he crawled under the covers and passed out. He dreamt that night that he was a warrior from long ago and that he was fighting a mighty army. Death and destruction rampaged around him, but then he raised his right hand a spirit burst forth from his body. He was poised for battle and held a massive sword that could surely pierce any armor. He was glorious, and in a moment the other army was decimated.

The spirit then turned to Alex and spoke, “You may think me magnificent now, but just wait until you see me in the real world.” With that parting statement, the spirit disappeared, and all that Alex saw was light. 

When he awoke from that dream he was gasping and covered in cold sweat. He looked down at his hand shaking and squeezed his eyes shut when he saw what was there. A black symbol that burned a responsibility into his soul that he did not want. Alex squeezed his eyes shut and opened them hoping that it was all a dream, an illusion, but still there it was like a brand that would never fade. He groaned and flopped back down on his bed. What was he supposed to do now? 

He meandered his way through the morning, hiding his mark from his parents, and as the hurriedly left told his mom that he would be spending the night at Dean’s house since his parents were out for the night. He rushed through school anxious, and wanted to ask Leona and Mac what he was supposed to do, but he couldn’t find them. They were probably training their spirits since once they are summoned, their masters normally drop out of social interaction and engage in training and fighting until the war is won. 

After school, Alex practically hauled Dean to his house and down to the bare concrete basement. He immediately started pacing back and forth, rubbing his hand, and generally having a mental crisis. 

“Dude,” Dean said, setting his hands on his shoulders, “what’s going on? Your wound up like a spring.”

“Okay,” Alex admitted, “I have something going on, something big, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Just tell me,” Dean said, reassuringly, “I’ll help you no matter what.”

“Fine,” Alex relented, “look.” He held up his hand for Dean to see, but Dean looked confused. 

“Am I supposed to see something?” he asked.

“What?” Alex said, “Oh, wrong hand.” He put his other hand up to Dean’s face, and watched as his friend’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. 

“Is that?” Dean asked. 

“Yep,” Alex said, “you can’t tell my parents, but I need your help to summon it. You promised.”

“Right,” Dean said, nervously, “right, of course, ummm.” He thought for a second and then went upstairs, “I’ll be right back.” A minute later, he returned holding a large book. 

“What’s that?” Alex asked, as Dean cracked it open. 

“It’s the book of the Excalibur wars,” he replied, “here we go.” Dean pointed to a circle, “we need to draw this circle and then you can summon your spirit with the correct summoning phrase.” 

“Okay,” Alex said, “which is?”

“Let me see the mark,” Dean asked, flipping through the book to a page that had seven black symbols and short phrases beside them. Alex lifted his hand and placed it on the  
book. The mark on the back of his hand looked kind of like three triangles interlocking, but at the same time like one dark line that twisted together. They matched up the symbol with the Knight Sword Class. 

“Dang,” Alex said, excitedly, “that’s awesome.” 

“Yeah,” Dean said, “but don’t forget that they are a little bit reckless and don’t know when to give up.”

“True,” Alex said, “okay, let’s do this.”

“Yes,” Dean said, “let’s.” Dean got to work on the circle with some chalk that he managed to dig up from somewhere, while Alex worked to memorize the phrase. 

“Ready?” Alex asked after a couple minutes.

“Yep,” Dean said, “let’s do it.” Alex headed over to the circle and raised his hand above the center of it. 

“Your will as impenetrable as you armor,” Alex said forcefully, “shall protect us as we stride past our opponents with honor towards victory!” Light began to pulse from the middle of the circle and then there was a burst of smoke. Alex covered his eyes from the onslaught of light and smoke. After a minute, it had died down and Alex removed his hand to look upon his spirit. 

The spirit had arisen with their back to Alex and Dean, but he knew that it was the spirit from his dream. They had the same silver and gold armor that looked heavy, and yet they seemed to hold themselves with a light and easy air. There was no denying that they were powerful. Long brown hair fell over their shoulders, but Alex still couldn’t tell if it was a man or woman. They held a massive sword by their side that shone like the sun. Their grip upon the blade was tight like they were just itching to use it. Finally, they turned around, and Alex gasped. She stared at them evenly with jade green eyes that could pierce anyone’s soul. Here pale skin shone and her lips were pulled down in a snarl. 

“Do not fool yourself mortal,” she said, crisp and commanding, “you may think you control me, but I am here to fix what has been unrightfully tampered with, for I am Excalibur, and someone else has deemed themselves worthy to choose my masters.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY! So, this is Excalibur. In a way I took the twist from Fate/Zero (you should watch it) that King Arthur was a girl. I just kind of liked that. I think our ratio for boy:girl spirits is even right now, but we'll see how it turns out. Leave me comments and kudos if you're here. Thank You!! <3


End file.
